Hold the Sun
by chocolatebearturk
Summary: Thor and Jane (and everyone else) share a meal. Number three of ten drabbles written for JDPhoenix's birthday. Prompt word: hamburger.


Thor eats a lot more than she expected. Like, a _lot_ more. Granted, he had demonstrated an ability to put it away in New Mexico (_all_ of their poptarts were gone when he left. _All_ of them) but _holy hell_ he's scarfing down burgers like he's not going to live to see tomorrow. She counts herself lucky that Erik tends to cook like he's in the army (he's not, and he never has been, and he claims that the Tesseract messed with his head but she's pretty sure he's just lazy and likes to eat leftovers for weeks at a time) and starts to mentally rebalance her check book to accommodate this new development.

"Dude, no one's going to _take_ them from you," Darcy says, eyeing him warily. He looks puzzled and she gestures to the defensive stance he's taken over his plate. "Table manners are a thing in space, right? I'm like ninety percent sure you had them the last time we shared a meal."

This is true. In Puente Antiguo Thor had shown ample ability to use a knife and fork on several plates of pancakes (after scarfing half a box of poptarts). He has the grace to look a bit sheepish and backs off his plate a little, giving them a small smile. "I apologize," he says, and she's always amazed at how he _actually_ sounds truly and sincerely apologetic. "I fear I've gotten used to less civilized means of sustenance. During my travels attempting to bring peace to the Realms, we grew accustomed to… camp fare, I think you might call it."

Jane would really like to interject that hamburgers are hardly civilized means of sustenance, but frankly that conversation is a pain and a half she'd really rather spare herself, so she lets it go. She'd be willing to let the whole thing go, in fact, but Ian's eyes go a little wide.

"Bringing peace to the Realms?" he says. He glances at Jane's face, which has gone a little blank, and then back to Thor. "Were they not at peace already?"

She decides then that she's had enough to eat and stands abruptly, chair scraping behind her. All eyes are drawn to her and she hesitates, then clears her throat. "I'm just going to… start washing up," she says, a bit lamely. She crumples her paper napkin in her fist and brings her plate into the kitchen. She can hear conversation continuing behind her, the rumble of Thor's voice and Ian's accent melding together into a dull roar. She dumps her plate in the sink and rubs a hand over her forehead. She shouldn't be like this. She should be _happy_.

Casting around for something to do, she starts to wrap up extra bits and bobs to put away—half an onion here, the rest of the lettuce there. She opens the fridge to put them away and her eyes catch on a few photographs Darcy had stuck to the up with magnets. Her mouth curves in a half-smile as she pulls one away.

"A stunning picture," Thor says behind her. She jumps a little and turns—he's right behind her and her eyes are level with his chest. He reaches over her shoulder to pluck the picture out of her grasp. Darcy had taken it in Puente Antiguo, urged her to stand in front of the sunset and strike a pose. With a little maneuvering, they'd made it look like she was cupping the setting sun in her hands. "You look like a goddess of legend, moving the stars about at her whims."

Her cheeks flush pink and she scoffs a bit at him, although she's still smiling. She takes the picture back and sticks it on the fridge again, holding it in place with a capital blue T. "It's just a picture. A little photo-manipulation, that's all."

"Jane…" he says. His hands are warm on her shoulders and he turns her gently to face him. "What is the matter? You've been… despondent."

She shifts on her feet, still not quite meeting his eyes. She could lie, she supposes, but that never really gets anybody anywhere. She sighs, tucks a bit of hair behind her ear, and finally says, "I don't… I don't like being reminded that you had a good reason for staying away." Her eyes dart down to her feet and then up to his face. "I know that I'm not… _top_ priority. I mean, I'm up there, sure, but… It's hard to be reminded of that. Especially when I've spent this long just trying to find you again."

His reaction is not what she expects. He blinks at her, as though what she's said makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, and then he _smiles_. He cups her face in his hands and dips down to kiss her, sweet and slow and tender and _wonderful_, until she's tingling from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. He rubs his thumbs over the apples over cheeks and then pulls away again.

"You are a very strange woman, Jane Foster," he says. His voice sends shivers down her spine. "Very intelligent and very strange. I only _ever_ stayed away so that I could be sure when I came back, I never had to leave you again. You are always, and will always be, my top priority."

As she looks at him she thinks that maybe she doesn't have to hold the sun in her hands to be able to move the stars.


End file.
